Speak
by Skyela Rickman-Walters
Summary: *Sequel to Stolen* Silence is golden. As Bella holds her demons deep inside her, allowing them to tear her apart from the inside out, she hears news that just might put her over the edge. Can Bella find the strength to face the one she fears most?
1. Preface

Speak

By: Skyela Rickman-Walters

Disclaimer: I do not in any way own any of the Twilight Saga. It belongs to Stephenie Meyer. They only thing I own is the story plot and a few original characters I have created.

A/n: Please read, enjoy and review!!! Every review counts!!!

Preface

I had known it would narrow down to this—I knew—somehow within my wildest, darkest dreams—that we would someday meet again. I could feel my heart plummeting downwards into the pit of my stomach as I stared across the familiar hallway into his handsome, carelessly arrogant face. It was that face that kept me up into the early morning, as I was afraid to succumb to sleep. It was _his_ face that had me constantly looking over my shoulder, always fearing the life I now lived. Even though I felt afraid now, I moved so that I stood in of my savior—if anything I had to keep my savior safe.

Who knew this world could be filled with so many things that were supposed to surreal? As his cold, dreadful eyes caught mine, our hands clasped so tightly together I was nearly positive that my savior and I had finally been bonded together for life. Fear teased my heart my heart now, but my scream was loud and triumphant as we clutched each other, one's arms shielding the other from the brash, clean cut horror show that was about to play out before our very eyes.

As he stepped forward with irrefutable grace, his dazzling white smile nearly blinding us with its glamor, it became clearly evident to me that we were moving now, our legs pounding up the stairway with fierce determination while my mind was trying to freeze the two of us still. For a brief moment of sanity, I was reminded of two people dancing, two partners swaying to and fro in perfect time. We were fearfully dancing for our lives—one wrong move and it could quite possibly be over. I tried to listen to my mind, tried to stop my trembling legs from shaking like leaves—but the fear already had me cornered, hot and eager to let me fall.

Stupidity often comes hand in hand with fear; the predator lunged forward, eager to pull us both down to the floor with him as we danced, I finally stopped running and stood to face my death with open heart and mind, body and soul.

* * *

So.....I know its short--but is the preface :) If you want more, I need at least 9 or 10 reviews. Come guys, do you stuff!!!

Much love,

Skye 3


	2. Chapter 1: Mute

Speak

By: Skyela Rickman-Walters

Disclaimer: I do not in any way own any of the Twilight Saga. It belongs to Stephenie Meyer. They only thing I own is the story plot and a few original characters I have created. The song (Follow Me Down) belongs to elenaaaxx on youtube!! If you have yet to hear it, listen to it. That girl is a very talented young lady!!

Chapter 1: Mute

It was night. How I would have loved to gaze at the stars this one night? I sighed into my thin mattress and wrapped my cotton blanket even tighter around my body. I was used to the cold—it was always cold in this hellish prison.

_Do you see that pipe up on the ceiling? _ My lips curled back into comforting smile as my old friend joined me once more. My eyes flickered up towards the ceiling, staring at a long steel bar—the water pipe from the next floor up—and another smile twitched across my face. I nodded to my friend expectantly. _Take your blanket—rip the cotton into strips. _My friend hissed vibrantly through my thoughts, sending tingles of cold down my spine. I blinked, trying to clear away the sudden urge of excitement that had rushed through my body. The bubble of adrenaline punched through my blood stream like heroine…a cold sweat broke out across my brow as I grabbed up my blanket and balled it up into my fists.

"No," I murmured to my friend, staring at the floor while I took a deep calming breath. "I will not do that." I paused. "_I will not._"

The voice chuckled; I surged in anger once more. "NO! I will not do that! I'm not listening—"

"Shuman!" A voice snarled from outside my cell. I immediately curled up within myself, hugging my blanket to my chest like a small child. The guard pushed his face against the bars and leered eerily back. "You be quiet now. We don't want a repeat of last night, do we?"

I shivered, squeezing my eyes tight shut as I repressed those silent memories that I wanted to stay forgotten.

The guard chuckled grimly. "I didn't think so." You could hear the smugness rolling off of the guard's voice like fear emitting from a frightened child. I scowled at him through the dank darkness.

The guard went to turn away to finish his rounds; I heard the scuff of his polished shoes as he began to walk towards the next cell, but the next sound I heard had me roll off the bed in surprise.

I heard the yelp—the night guard barely had time to let out a proper scream before the scuffling intensified. My eyes widened as the guard's arm slumped lifelessly in front of the bars, but the surprise became shock when I saw the beautiful silhouette a lithe woman with wild hair; from the dull light of the fluorescents above, I saw her vibrant fiery curls glow as she easily wrenched open the bars as if they were made of play dough.

"Victoria," I breathed as she gracefully glided through the bars with the perfect whisper of a ghost. My eyes caught the floor the moment they even dared to touch her face—my heart hammered high in my throat as I struggled to regain my calm.

Carefully, all the while keeping her intense red stare locked onto top of my head, she wiped away the dark liquid that was lightly coated around her lips. I swallowed hard as she did this, feeling a stab of pity for the security guard.

"Vince," she purred delicately, and I looked up just in time to watch her lick her lips tastefully. My stomach churned lightly so I focused hard on the bent iron bars behind her. I felt a bead of sweat trail down my temple; my breath seized in my chest as I tried to keep my heart rate down—in any case, Victoria could always _sense_ fear. My left hand twitched as she lithely made her way towards my rigid form, fearful for what was about to happen next…that look in her eye—it was impossible to miss.

"Vincent." Her icy hand touched my chin, forcing my eyes to be level with hers once again. Her eyes glittered like malicious rubies, defiant and pitiless. Slowly, her head inclined towards my ear. "What has you so frightened?" and then she chuckled, "Surely it isn't me?"

"How—how did you get—?" but my words were mashed off as her other hand clamped tightly around my lips. Her eyes burned darkly, but the smile that stretched wide across her face gave them only a hint of light.

"Remember our little deal, Vince?" Victoria's voice—it was like tainted honey; sweet and delectable, but lethal and potent.

I nodded numbly, catching a whiff of her mouthwatering breath. My knees trembled as I fought to stay standing.

Victoria flashed me her white teeth. "This is the only way," she breathed, her cold lips skimming my warm flesh as though searching for something she had been long wanting. I froze and squeezed my eyes shut as her icy breath tickled the soft flesh of my neck. "This is what you are now…"

Pain seared where her lips touched. I could feel myself twitching, as all my nerves seized without cause. And then, as though someone had turned up the dial, the burning pain intensified My mouth fell open as I tried to yell—but my voice shriveled up within the depths of my throat…my knees buckled and I fell forward, writhing around on the ground like dog…I could feel my scream building up, growing and escalating, but there was no release from this hurt, this pain. At times, it felt as though I was suffocating in despair as I reached wildly for the bright flames of hair…my heart was beginning to thunk unevenly within my aching chest…

***

_Bella's POV_

_Forks, Washington_

_April 14__th__, 2007_

_3:09 am_

I shot up, my throat burning in protest as I screamed, clutching my hands to my burning neck. I heard the click, and I could see a dull glow from behind my eyelids, but my body refused to break form. In a hot wave of panic, I desperately hit my mattress, in a weak attempt to defend myself from what ever was coming next….

"Bella, Bella. It's alright, you're alright."

Cold hands gently grabbed my cheeks, coaxing me down from my abrupt adrenaline rush. My screaming stopped and my waterlogged eyelashes forced themselves open as my entire body responded to the most wonderful voice in existence.

"Edward…" My voice wavered a little as I spoke, unsure of any reality. My neck was still burning sharply in accordance with the nightmare I had just had, and although I could physically _see _Edward sitting on my bed—his face flushed with concern and worry—didn't mean that he was necessarily _there_.

"It's alright sweetheart," he soothed, softly curling his fingers though my hair while wiping away my tears with his other hand. "I'm right here…"

Edward pulled me to him them, clinging to me as though I were only a child. I laid limply in his arms, aware of my own heart fluttering within my ribcage like a distressed songbird. Edward took notice of that too, as he slowly brought his hand down to my breast bone.

"Shhh," he murmured again, rocking me back and forth in his lap in an attempt to lull me back to sleep. But I wasn't ready to sleep—not after that very vivid nightmare…

I sat in Edward's arms, staring at the ceiling for a long while, not really wanting to fall back into my restless slumber. Not really wanting to succumb to the half desired sleep that was desperately calling my name…

Somewhere, between the hours of four in the morning and Edward's whispers of love and endearment, I could feel it; the strange haze as it lifted me away from my reality. Its strange how it happens—at first I feel a burning sensation behind my eyes and then I can actually _feel_ myself being pulled from the depths of my eyes….I even think I'm going legally insane when I think of my floating away, but in all honestly that's how it feels. Like I'm a soul being pulled from the depths of destruction. Like I'm not even here anymore…

I watched as my eyes roll back almost lifelessly and my body slumps lazily into Edward's chest. His worried face kisses my cheek before he tightly wraps my cold body up with my blankets, and then he just continues to hold me to him…still whispering his words, still combing his long fingers through my snarled hair…

"It's going to be alright," he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to my temple. "Everything is alright now."

I chuckle to myself, almost smugly and shake my head from where I watch. No. Doesn't he understand? It's _not_ going to be alright. Never again. I'm too broken to be alright ever again.

I try to speak—I try to tell Edward everything that happened….but when I try my mouth suddenly feels all cottony and stuffy and my throat burns in mild protest.

"I love you…"

My body sighs, and I turn my face into the crook of Edward's neck.

_I love you too…But I just can't make you see…_

***

_Later that day_

_1:00 pm_

_Cullen Residence_

I looked up from my booklet and gave the old wooden clock a listless glare before sighing deeply. For the first time in a long time, I didn't _want_ to be working on my school work. Usually—or at least since I had returned—I used my studying as a strategic way to busy my ever frazzled mind. I enjoyed having Esme sit by me with one of her many books while I scribbled away, not having to worry about Edward's worried stares or Alice's constant babble about shopping sprees and CoCo Chanel. But today was different.

I had decided upon not returning to Forks High School. Inwardly, I knew that I couldn't take the constant stares and whispering…the questions. It would be too much too soon, and I knew that I wanted more than anything to finish my high school education. Edward—having invaded my mother's thoughts—found out that I wasn't planning on going back, and he insisted that I allow Esme to tutor me so that I could get my diploma. At first, I wasn't so sure. I really wanted to take a break from everything and try to clean my soiled mind—but after a month or so, I knew I would need a distraction. So since the beginning of January, Edward took me to his house three days a week for schooling. It was nice, comfortable and quiet. No one ever asked any questions. And I wasn't willing to give them any answers.

Today, most of the Cullens were out hunting; Edward, per usual now, was hesitant to leave, but some how I convinced him with a silent sigh and a roll of the eyes to go with his siblings and Carlisle. A few minutes earlier, Esme had excused herself—apologizing for her sudden need to leave. I was silent, as I usually was now, and gave her a quick reassuring smile before going back to my constant scribble. As I looked around the dining room, I had a sudden understanding as to why I didn't feel like studying on this miserable rainy day.

For the first time since my return…I was _alone_.

Alone was a feeling I wasn't accustomed to. Edward rarely left my side—not that I wanted him to—and my parents were always trying to fill my days with things to do, such as scrapbooking with Renée and playing cards with Charlie. From the moment I woke up until the moment I fell into a restless sleep, I was always with _someone_. The only alone time I had to myself was when I was in the bathroom or when I insisted on being by myself to talk to Olivia on the phone or to send her a quick email. And unfortunately, I didn't count those three occurrences.

I found myself vaguely wandering into the living room; the dull misty haze fell through the sun roof, giving the bright room a rather gray appearance. I shuddered, remembering how much I hated the darkness and rather abruptly flicked on one of the lamps that sat on the rosewood side table. And then my weary eyes sought something in the corner of the room.

The beautiful ebony grand piano beckoned me forward; it was like metal on a magnet—gravity pulling the Earth along on a sweet, silky ride. My fingers gently stroked the ivory keys, absorbing their soft, smooth exterior. My stomach did a little flip and I was reminded of the very reason why I had begun to play in the first place.

My other hand rubbing my belly almost longingly, I took a seat on the bench and took a deep breath. Over the last few months, I had been rather insistent about writing poetry. My psychiatrist insisted that I create an outlet for myself, and since I had tried to push away my reoccurring thoughts of music and pianos, I began to write. Everyday I wrote something. A line or two one day, a paragraph the next. I breathed in the sweet smell of the polish that Edward used to clean the keys and positioned my fingers just the way Bren had taught me. Another tremor of pain tingled through me as I remember the other reason I tried to forget music. Bren was the only one who could compare with Edward's voice.

I swallowed hard, squeezed my eyes tight shut and began to play. The first few lines were hard and driving, like someone running at the speed of sound to free themselves of guilt. And then I slowed the pace as my foot tapped the pedal; my mouth opened.

_Don't look for me  
I'll be dancing like a ballerina  
In the dying sun.  
So don't call for me—  
I am laughing at the irony  
Of what I've become…_

My fingers slowed again, pacing myself as I reached the chorus. I hit a few sour notes, but I was doing pretty well, all things considered.

_So follow me down the river—  
Follow me down.  
It's too late to save me now,  
So follow me down  
With no shame_

_I'm running, oh  
I'm running fast  
Toward I horizon that I can't see.  
And you cut your hands  
Every time you touch me,  
So don't reach out  
You wont catch me now…_

_'Cause I'm too far gone  
To remember who I am  
And I'm bound and broken  
On the floor again  
Waiting for the end  
_

At moments, I couldn't remember how things used to be. I was sure that before everything, I was normal. But now, it was like I never existed until I was kidnapped. I often wondered if I had secretly been reborn during my rescue—but I knew, logically I had survived. Or perhaps only a part of me had survived and my broken soul had been shattered beyond repair. My finger grazed the keys and came to a swell, allowing the music to linger a bit longer._  
So follow me down the river  
Follow me down  
It's too late to save me now  
So follow me down  
With no shame_

At that moment, I was quite aware that I wasn't alone anymore. In fact, I was far from alone. My heart wished to stop—but my brain willed me to continue; I had to continue. Despite the sudden chill that ran down my side as he sat down next to me at the bench, intently watching my fingers trail almost expertly across the ivories, all the while capturing glimpses of my face, I just couldn't stop…I couldn't…

_Believe in me tonight!  
Watch me as I fall  
When the earth and sea collide;  
It's my surrender now.  
Where were you  
When I needed you the most?  
It's too late to say goodbye  
I can't hold on anymore…_

_Don't look for me  
I'll be dancing like a ballerina  
In the dying sun  
So don't call for me  
I am laughing at the irony  
Of what I've become_

_So follow me down the river  
Follow me down  
It's too late to save me now  
So follow me down  
With no shame…_

I hit the last chord with a shaky realization; that was the most anyone had heard out of me for months. I swallowed, staring at my hands in front of me, waiting for Edward to speak. But he sat just as quietly as I did—probably waiting for me to say something in return. I looked down, narrowing my eyes as I concentrated, allowing my hair to fall in front of my face so that I wouldn't be tempted to see his expression. But Edward instantly pushed the fallen strands of hair out of my vision and I just happened to catch the look on his face.

Hurt. Concern. _Love_.

I bit my lip, unsure of what to do now. How did I explain myself? What could I possibly say?

"Bella," he breathed, the aromatic breath dazzling me for the briefest of moments. "That was beautiful."

I don't know how I knew, but I knew that we were certainly alone. Perhaps Edward had told his family to stay outside as they listened to the music swell from inside their mansion. Maybe he wanted a few minutes of alone time, just the two of us. I looked stared at him, willing him to speak again. Speak so that I wouldn't have to fill the awkward silence.

"Who taught you how to play?"

Edward knew right away that asking that innocent question was not wise. Instantaneously, my gut tightened into a hard knot and my eyes welled up so much, I had to blink hard to not let any tears escape. But one did, sliding down my cheek effortlessly. Edward caught it before I had a chance to move my hands away from the keys. I sighed, and looked at him, trying to find some voice inside me.

"It's okay—I shouldn't have asked," he said quickly, caressing my cheek with the back of his hand. The icy touch sent chills down my spine, a silent reminder to the reassuring cold that had kept me so safe so many months ago.

"My friend taught me," I said, my timid voice cracking a bit as a spoke, unsure of where to take the conversation.

Edward nodded, merely indicating that I didn't have to continue; he could see that he pushed too far. I looked back down at the keys in mild thought, my mind racing through memories that I yearned to keep stowed away and forgotten.

"It's okay Bella." His voice sounded oddly far away—almost like he was a distant memory from a dream. I blinked and everything came back into sharp focus. "It's alright."

I shook my head once, shoulder slumping in silent defeat. "No. It isn't."

Edward frowned, touching my cheek again so that he could tilt my face towards his. "Bella?"

Bren's grinning face soared threw my mind; and then she was being thrown backwards, her beautiful soul leaving her body as she slumped lifelessly to the floor…

My eyes clenched shut as I felt the preset of a migraine kick in. I opened them again, feeling wet, stinging sensation of tears as I willed them away with all the strength I could muster.

_You don't deserve to feel this! _Vince's voice whispered sinisterly off the broken and defeated walls of my mind. I felt so numb, that I barely paid any attention to the words that tumbled off of Edward's perfect lips.

"Feel what?" His eyes hardened, looking me over sharply as though I was a criminal on the run. I blinked rapidly, trying to remember if I had spoken Vince's words out loud or not.

"Huh?"

Edward's face softened and his lips pressed tenderly against my forehead. "C'mon," he whispered gently, pulling me to my feet and holding me tightly to his body. "You've got to finish your Calculus…I'll help you."

Instead of agreeing, I stood, rooted to the spot. I didn't want to study—not today. I could feel the haze begin to settle over me again—and this time, I tried to fight it. I wanted to stay with Edward—I wanted to talk with him…but the more I fought with it, the more persistent the haze became, washing over me like sunlight on a warm summer's day.

"Bella?" Edward's voice was distant again, and this time I struggled to listen to each harmonious chord it held.

And then the haze was gone; merely thrown to the side like a forgotten toy. It took me a moment to regain focus, but I continued to stare out the window; the rain stopped and I could see the sun protruding from his previous hiding spot.

"Where's Bella?" Edward's voice was gentle, as it always was whenever I came out of my reverie. Numbly, with all the voice I could give, I looked up at him and sighed.

"Outside."

Edward smiled; still holding me tightly to his side, Edward led me to the door, the haze to follow sneakily in our wake.

"Edward?"

"Yes love?"

I touched my numb fingertips to the inside of his wrist. "I love you."

Edward grabbed the doorknob and brought his pulled me closer to him. His lips suddenly, but very gently pressed to mine, feathering tiny kisses across my lips. I shut my eyes and breathed in the smell of him…

And then I was floating again; the haze always won--even in the most joyous of seconds.

* * *

ICK! This chapter is definitely up on the revise list! Haha! Thank you so much to all my reviewers! Yay for ten reviews!! You guys are AMAZING!!!

Please let me know if you have any questions. I know Bella's "floating" episodes can be confusing--honestly, it gets confusing to write those scenes at times. Just think of it like the cold that protected her in Stolen. Sorry this chapter took so long to write. I had to feel out how Bella would act. In this chapter, I wanted you to see through Bella's eyes--how time to her just slips by in the quickest of seconds. In the next chapter, you will see just how...well, broken Bella is now. How worried her family and friends are. How...quick Bella's moods can change. But in order to read the next chapter, you must review!!!

10 more or so, and you've got yourselves another chapter! Let's get this story rocking guys!!!

Much love,

Skye :P


	3. Chapter 2: Arrival

Speak

By: Skyela Rickman-Walters

Disclaimer: I do not in any way own any of the Twilight Saga. It belongs to Stephenie Meyer. They only thing I own is the story plot and a few original characters I have created.

Chapter 2: Arrival

_Bella's POV_

_April 17__th__, 2007_

_Bellevue Mental Health_

_9:20 a.m._

Ten minutes. Only ten more minutes left until I was able to leave Dr. Phillips' tiny, secluded office—with it's more than comfortable chairs and soft plushy throw rugs and the warm heater that rattled and hissed like a snake. I stared on forward just as I always have, since I started coming here in the beginning of January, my eyes glued to the tiny zen garden that sat on Dr. Phillips' desk. I wanted more than anything to reach out and run the miniature rake through the soft white sand but I was afraid that if I moved—if I reached out for it—Dr. Phillips would start asking even _more_ questions. I _hated_ the questions.

I made sure I said as little as possible. I only realized just last week how fake I sounded. "Hi. How are you? I'm good." I was no better than a broken record. And then I'd sit for my hour and the moment Dr. Phillips said in her weary but determined voice, "Alright Bella. That's all for today," I'd race from the chair and half run to the door as if my life depended on it.

I let out a small breath, blowing a strand of my hair out of my eyes, careful never to make eye contact with my doctor. That was _another_ thing I learned during my visits—making eye contact with this woman was a big no-no. It only made her think that I had something to say, a story to tell, perhaps. I leaned back into the soft leather, kicking my foot out gently as I counted the minutes backwards in my head, distracting myself from further conversation.

"I hear you're going to the airport this afternoon," Dr. Phillips said suddenly, kindness clearly evident in her voice. Shocked, wondering just how she came to know this information, I looked up slightly, only meaning to catch the edge of her desk so that I could see her face in my peripheral vision; I caught her bright green eyes instead. _ Damnit_.

Dr. Phillips smiled gently at me, uncrossing her leg. My eyes quickly adverted to the manila folder that held all of my records and the clipboard in her hands—but it was already too late. I was hooked, line and sinker.

"Her name is Olivia, right?" I was almost delighted to hear the strain in her voice while she spoke. "You must be very excited about seeing your friend again."

Nod.

"How long is she staying?"

I sighed and distractedly scratched my head.

Dr. Phillips leaned forward, scribbling her pen across the pad of paper. I squeezed my palms into the arms of the chair, feeling the moist perspiration that was left behind.

"Bella—I need you to look at me, please."

I found certain interest in the ceiling instead. The olive green paint against the gold floral pattern went surprisingly well together.

Dr. Phillips sighed, clicking her pen against her stupid clipboard. "Bella. This—the two of us sitting here every Tuesday morning, with me watching you twirl your hair or listening to you see just how long you can hold your breath—isn't helping _you_."

I blink.

"I know what happened to you was horrible. I can't say I know what it was like—and I can't say I can even imagine what it must have been like either—but I _know_ you want help. And I know that your family wants it too." She leaned forward; I caught a waft of her flowery perfume—my eyes watered. "Bella, I know you're hurting, but you must believe me when I say that holding it all in isn't helping you find closure. Pretty soon, all that frustration you're feeling—all of that anger and sorrow and fear that you are hiding—it's just too much for one person to handle. And I'm afraid that you might try doing something to hurt yourself."

I lowered my gaze and found Dr. Phillips' through my eyelashes, her intent eyes pleading with mine. It was kind of ironic, how empty my eyes felt compared to how lively hers looked. My stomach twisted.

"We don't even have to talk about what happened," Dr. Phillips continued—although she had told me the same thing twice before. "We can talk about anything you'd like to talk about. Anything at all."

I don't want to talk. Doesn't anybody get that?

That vibrant spark that had twinkled in Dr. Phillips' eyes was slowly dissipating. She leaned back into her dead-cow chair and snapped my manila folder shut.

"That's all for today Bella."

I stood and raced for the door—my feet couldn't shuffle fast enough. Just as my fingertips grazed the doorknob, she said, "Could you please have your parents come in? I'd like a word with them."

* * *

_Renée's POV_

"I'm not saying that Bella doesn't want help," Dr. Phillips said quickly, gauging both mine and Charlie's reactions carefully. "I do believe she _wants_ help—that's why she doesn't resist coming—but I cannot help Bella if she can't freely express herself in my office—"

"And how exactly do we get her to do that?" Charlie snapped, cutting Dr. Phillips off with a brisk tone. He gestured towards me with an air of irritability. "We knew she was _struggling_—that's why we brought her here, to you."

"She wasn't this bad when she first came home," I whispered softly, clutching my white-knuckled hands tightly in my lap. My throat felt dry as if I had been chewing on a cotton ball. "She'd talk—she'd even crack a smile." I gasped painfully, clutching my heart as my anxiety surged. I gave Charlie a frazzled look. "What if we did something wrong?"

"I assure you both, you did nothing to cause Bella's selective mute. I think that when Bella first came home, she was still…in between, so to speak. Nothing seemed real—almost as if she were living a dream. And as time went by, everything that has happened to her slowly began to sink in." Dr. Phillips frowned sympathetically. "It was a horrible thing that happened—"

"Lady, you have no idea what horrible is!" Charlie stood from his chair, his light voice slowly rising to a shout. I clenched my eyes shut, wincing. "I—I can't even _hug_ my own child without her flinching in fright—as if _I'd_ hurt her. I can't even be alone in a room without my child slowly curling in on herself—it's like watching a damn flower wilt!" He panted, trying to sooth himself. I reached for him, my face twisting in concern and hurt, but Charlie pulled away from me as if he were swatting a fly. "Every damned night, I can hear her screaming, _pleading_, in her sleep and I think to myself, 'Should I go in there, or would it terrify her even more?' and then I get even more pissed off because of what that insufferable _bastard_ did…" he trailed off, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. Charlie pinched the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath in and out, trying to regain his calm but even when he was able to sit again, his shoulders still trembled.

"I think the best thing for you both to do, is to_ talk_ with her." Dr. Phillips raised an eyebrow as Charlie opened his mouth in outrage. "Not just try to have a conversation with her, but just _talk_. Reassure her, tell her everything is going to be okay. If she doesn't answer—or even if she doesn't respond— keep talking.

"We _have _been doing that. I tell her I love her more than my own life everyday."

"It's more than that, Charlie. She needs to know—to _understand_ that what that man did was wrong. That she is safe now, and no one is ever going to touch her again."

"I don't want her to feel as if she _has _to tell us what happened," I said, shivering at the thought of the horrible truth that might pour from my Bella's lips. It would give me a sense of clarity, hearing the story come from _her_ mouth rather than from the doctor's—but I just wanted Bella to be my happy girl again.

"She has to tell us!" Charlie half yelled, his face turning an interesting shade of purple. "We are her parents—we deserve to know—"

"We are her parents." My voice was strangely quiet. I lifted my gaze to meet Charlie's—his brown eyes glittered with angry, overwhelming tears. "And as her parents, we have to respect the choices she makes. If she doesn't tell us what happened right away—" my breath left my lungs with a shudder, "then that'll be okay with me. But just as long as she talks with _someone_."

Charlie fell silent. I looked away from him, afraid to meet his eyes. They were ablaze with something—not anger or sadness, but something much more terrifying.

"She might talk with her friend—Olivia—they shared a similar experience," Dr. Phillips added encouragingly.

Charlie sighed. "I hope to God she does."

* * *

_Bella's POV_

_Seattle Airport_

_Later that afternoon_

I stood in the lobby, twisting the sleeves of my shirt nervously between my fingertips. I kept looking up at the flat screen that held all the flights' departure and arrival times, but only as an attempt to keep distracted. The crowds of people were like gigantic clusters, constantly pushing and parading past me—I hated the public, hated the suffocating feeling that erupted in my chest whenever I was near the crowds. A cold hand gently pushed my hair from my shoulder.

Edward had met us at my mother's place before we left—I felt guilty that he had endured a three hour ride by himself but secretly glad because he was standing beside me, keeping me grounded.

"Flight 109 has arrived," he said softly, his whisper coolly tickling my ear. I started, my knees knocking together where I stood. I looked to where both of my parents sat before nervously glancing up into his golden eyes.

"I want to go to the gate by myself," I murmured, my voice sounding unfamiliar to my own ears. I saw a flash of hurt and confusion flash across Edward's face. I grimaced—he never wanted to be far from me anymore, just like everyone else.

"You can go sweetie," my mother said, while Edward's face stayed frozen in a sort of irritable glower. "We'll be right here."

I nodded and with my heart aching, I pulled away from Edward's outstretched hand. Somehow, I found myself gliding through the bustling crowd, waiting anxiously at Gate 15. I looked back around when my feet stopped moving; my mother and father waved—Edward stood motionless, watching me with that grim expression, hands shoved deep within his pockets.

People started rounding the corner, embracing loved ones. I waited as patiently as I could, looking into each face that gazed wonderingly into mine. The minutes seemed to pass like hours before I saw her, slinking around the corner, clutching her carryon in her arms as though her life depended on it, her green eyes searching longingly. My breath caught in my throat as our eyes met from across the lobby and my feet were moving quickly to meet her. My brow furrowed in confusion as she reached me, beaming brightly from ear to ear.

"Where are the kids?" I asked.

Olivia pulled me into a tight embrace. "Nicky's sick—and Bella has had a horrible ear infection—I couldn't possibly have brought them on the plane." She pulled away and held me at arms length. "I tried to call you, but you didn't answer your phone—"

"It's okay," I reassured, my tired smiled stretching across my face like an old elastic band, worn and damn near ready to snap.

Olivia's forehead crinkled as her fingertips gently brushed the deep purple circles under my eyes. Her smile became a fretful frown. "How are _you_?" she asked seriously, looking me over with a raised eye brow. "You don't look well at all."

I shrugged nonchalantly. "I'll tell you in private later."

Olivia opened her mouth determinedly—maybe it was her intention to pull my secrets out right then, I wasn't sure, but her frustrated lips suddenly turned upwards and her emerald eyes shined like cut gems.

"Olivia!" My mother's voice called from behind me. I started, snapping my head around just in time to see her arms outstretch to embrace Olivia. "It's so nice to see you again!" Renée placed a kiss on Olivia's cheek, rubbing her back with slow circles.

"It's a pleasure to see you too, Mrs. Dwyer!" Olivia giggled, always the pleasant one. As Renée released her, Olivia face shone with apology. "I'm extremely sorry—Nicky's got sick with this bug at the last second—and my little girl, she had an ear infection so I couldn't possibly bring her on the plane—that's why they're MIA—"

"Oh, bless them!" Renée simpered, patting Olivia's shoulder comfortingly. "At least you could still make it! I'm so happy that you're here!"

Olivia grinned. "Thank you kindly, Mrs. Dwyer." Her eyes shifted towards me, still soaking in my blank expression like a sponge, before swiveling around to look up at Edward, who hesitantly made his way up behind me. "Wow, Bells—you weren't kidding. He _is_ beautiful."

My eyes almost bulged out of their sockets while I fought the urge to choke.

Edward chuckled lightly, gently placing his hand against the small of my back. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Olivia."

* * *

I sat on the floor, listening to Olivia's mindless chatter over the light tinkling of the stereo. It was well after my parents bid us goodnight—and Edward wasn't staying tonight. More like, he _couldn't_ stay tonight, or for the next nine days, but I wouldn't be terribly alone. I had the feeling he wouldn't be to far away though...

"Alright," Olivia said suddenly, snapping the radio off. She crawled off of my bed and sank to the floor in front of me, her eyes piercing like daggers. "What is wrong?" she demanded. "You've barely said two words since I've been here. We're in private, so spill."

I gave a remorseful swallow. "You—you can't possibly…under—"

Olivia clasped a cold hand over my lips, her eyes wry. "If you're about to say what I think you're about to say, then I'm leaving. Because if _anybody_ can understand what you're going through right now, it's me."

My eyes became wet instantaneously.


	4. Chapter 3: Broken and Gone

Speak

By: Skyela Rickman-Walters

Disclaimer: I do not in any way own any of the Twilight Saga. It belongs to Stephenie Meyer. They only thing I own is the story plot and a few original characters I have created.

Chapter 3: Broken and Gone

"I can't," I whispered, blinking away my frustrated tears. My fingers twisted the sleeves of my shirt anxiously.

"You _can_," Olivia said fiercely. She grabbed my wrists, but I barely felt the soft skin of her fingertips. "You haven't been doing anything to yourself?" She began to push up my sleeves.

"No," I pulled my arms away from her, feeling weightless. "I would never...I couldn't. Edward would find out."

Olivia narrowed her green eyes, glowering at me through the dim light of my room. "Is he hurting you? I never heard you talk about him. Is he-?"

"No." I bit out between gritted teeth, ashamed that she would ever think that about Edward.

"Is that all you can say? No?"

"No..." This time I smiled, to myself more than to her. _I want to tell you_, I thought sadly, my vocal chords tightening as I sat staring at the uneven cracks in the floor boards. _I want to tell you everything, but I physically can't._ "Edward would never hurt me. He left so he couldn't hurt me anymore."

"If it's about what happened to us...talk to me." I couldn't make out Olivia's expression now; she had leaned back into the dark shadows of my room. _Doesn't she know what hides in those shadows? The truth and the lies? The pain, the sorrow?_ "I know I didn't know Bren well. I know you were both close and I know that you miss her. Because I missed you just as much when I went away. A day never went by when I didn't think of you, or Nicky, or my Bella..." _I can't even tell you the truth about how Bren died...you'd think I'd went insane. _"Please. Talk to me. I miss you."

"I want to tell you everything," I mumbled, my throat aching from lack of use. "But when I open my mouth to speak, everything just shrivels up inside...I can't breathe. I become scared...I don't want them to know, Livi. Not my mom, or my dad...not Edward or his family, Jake and his friends..."

"_I won't tell them_." Olivia clutched my hand in hers, squeezing it tightly. "It'll be just like it used to be. You and me. No one else."

My mouth opened. The haze, cruel and suffocating, was falling around me, making it hard to breathe. There was this bulge in my throat. It had not been there before and I was uncertain as to when it had materialized. I swallowed, but it did no good; in fact, the horrible bulge grew bigger and my throat began to hurt even worse. I pictured Edward outside, sitting between the crooks of tree branches, eavesdropping. I knew he only did these things because he cared, but was it bad to wish for just a moment of clarity? A brief second between the only person who could possibly understand how I felt? I couldn't even risk writing it down, knowing that he would hear Olivia's thoughts as soon as she read it.

"I don't know what you want me to say. I'm broken..."

* * *

The next morning-or was it the afternoon?- I damn near expected Olivia to be gone. But she was there, still sleeping in the bed beside me. We got dressed, ate breakfast and got a ride over to Edward's. Just before Olivia was on vacation didn't mean that I was. Edward and his siblings had gone out to hunt, so we were stuck with Esmé and Carlisle for the next two hours.

As I finished an essay Esmé had assigned two days ago, Olivia sat beside me, doodling on a piece of paper.

"If you're hungry, I can ask Esmé to make you something," I offered politely.

Olivia hummed, kicking her feet underneath the table while she put her finishing touches on some strange stick figures.

I frowned. "Did you hear me? Are you hungry?"

Olivia glanced up at me deliberately and thrummed her marker against the table.

Glowering, I place my pencil down. "What are you doing?"

"If you're not going to tell me what's going on in that brain of yours, then I'm not going to tell you what's going on in mine."

"I can't," I bit out. "Why can't you just accept it at that?"

"Because it's eating you from the inside out!" Olivia slapped her pencil against the table. "You're my friend, Bella! My best friend and it's hurting me to see you like this. A shell of what you were. I would have expected this behavior from you last year, but...Life is too short, Bella. Didn't you learn that? Life is too short, and we have to play the cards we're dealt. Stop pitying yourself-"

"Pity?" I hissed, feeling angry. "This has nothing to do with _pity_. This is nothing to do with feeling sorry for myself. I just don't know how to feel anymore! And I want to tell you everything. I know we promised, but I just _can't_."

Olivia began to retort; her eyes were dark and her shoulders were rigid, but the quiet sound of some reporter on the television caught us off guard. I'm not even sure how we were able to hear it.

"...Again, armed and dangerous, Vincent D'Attilio escaped from his jail cell two nights ago, after murdering a prison guard..."

"Please tell me I'm hearing things," Olivia moaned, the anger gone from her eyes as she looked at me. "Is there even a TV on in there?"

There was. Carlisle was on his cell phone, talking into it very fast. Edward. He had to be the one on the other line.

"It's happened," I whispered, standing up from the table. I ran my fingers through my hand, my heart racing in my chest.

_He's out...Victoria got him out...Victoria._

"Bella?" I don't know how Olivia knew to whisper, but her voice was as soft as it was rigid. "Bella? Are you alright?"

My eyes darted to the rack of keys that dangled from the wall below the bread cupboard. _If I don't get out of here...they'll come for me. They'll come for me, and hurt them and then I'll never get my baby back..._I moved towards the keys and stared at them. "Do you trust me?"

"Duh," Olivia said, looking over her shoulder into the living room. "If I didn't trust you, I wouldn't be here!"

I grabbed Edward's keys and turned to face the door, my path chosen. "Follow me. And don't make a sound. Don't think about what we're doing. Just follow me."

I lead her silently to the backdoor and we snuck down the stairs into the yard. The sky was gray and drizzly. I could feel the hems of my pants becoming wet with rain. Edward's car was parked outside the garage. It hurt to think that I was going through with this crazy, last-minute plan, leaving Edward behind when I wanted to bring him with me. But there was too much for him to find out. I didn't want anybody to know my past. Only Olivia. Just Olivia.

I unlocked the doors with a click of the remote and opened the door. Olivia anxiously, but not saying a word, climbed into the passenger seat and buckled herself up.

"Bella!"

At the sound of Edward's voice, I jumped into the driver's seat and slammed the door. I knew Edward could see Olivia sitting beside me. He wouldn't dare break into a vampire-paced sprint at the cost of being found out.

But I was wrong. The car revved to life and I punched the gas just as he reached the door, my heart breaking as I sped down the narrow driveway.

"He can run really fast." Those were Olivia's first words. Not "Where are we going?" or "Are you crazy?" I couldn't help but smile as I looked into my rearview window, nothing but rain and trees behind us. I clenched the wheel tightly and looked sideways at my companion.

"I can tell you everything now."

* * *

Author's Note: I am very sorry for not updating in about a year. I have been very busy moving, working, finishing my novel, going back to school, and this among many other pieces just got put back onto the back burner.

But here's an update! It's short, but that's how it was intended. It's written very blandly, but that's how it's intended also. It should also leave you scratching your head, wondering _Did she really just steal Edward's car? _because Bella is wondering the exact same thing. This was extremely hard to write, because I really have to put myself into a dark place in order to write Bella. Things should get lighter, though. Soon.

I have finished my actual novel *YAY*. If any of you are interested in reading it when it comes out...please add me on facebook! Just search Skyela Rickman-Walters and request me as a friend! I'm not sure if I'm going to be self-publishing (I'm trying the traditional route first) but if I do self-publish I'll need to promote it somehow, so this is the way I'm doing it. I love you all, and I thank you for your patience. Enjoy and I should update again soon...probably by the end of the month! =)

~*~Skye~*~


	5. IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE! PLEASE READ!

To my beloved readers,

The year of 2012 was a huge roller coaster for me. My original manuscript was picked up and quickly dropped. I reentered the work force only to be let go a month later. And then I found out I was nearly three months pregnant in June. Following a very difficult pregnancy, in which preggo brain over took my ability to read, write or even begin to think straight, and after a near fatal childbirth, I welcomed my daughter into the world on December 4th. She arrived 3.5 weeks early, just shy of 37 weeks, but she needed a 31 day NICU stay due to GERD, laryngomalacia and immature eating. She is home now, doing well, and life is crazy. No, it's beyond crazy. She is a snuggler and dislikes being out of my arms. While I struggle to get time to myself so that I can write again as well as read for enjoyment, please know that this story has NOT been abandoned. Life just got very hectic and this is a huge outlet for me. Each of you are incredibly special to me, and while I fought to keep my pregnancy I just couldn't focus on much o f anything. Hopefully, the next chapter will be out soon. But until then, please know that you haven't been forgotten. I'll be in touch soon.

Much love,

Skye and Baby H 3


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